


I've Already Been to Heaven (After Five Minutes I Was Like "Let's Go!")

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Baby Brother Gabriel, Big Sister Michael, Body Dysphoria, Body Image, Dysphoria, First Kiss, Gabriel Has Mommy Issues (Good Omens), Kat Dennings!Gabriel, Misgendering, Other, Self-Esteem Issues, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Gabriel decides to handle his body dysphoria after several thousand years, gets a corporation that looks like Kat Dennings, and attempts to mend his relationships.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Gabriel & Michael (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

“You know, there’s other places on Earth than London,” Michael said gently, sitting down next to Gabriel on the bench where he’d been sulking for the past few hours.

“But—”

“Yes, I know. _He’s_ here. Are you really hoping to run into him? Or, what, he’ll walk by and tell you everything you want to hear?”

“ _Michael_...”

“Gabriel. You have to let go.”

Gabriel blinked, his violet eyes looking anywhere but at her. He didn’t want to let go. He was sure things could be mended, somehow. If only Aziraphale would talk to him. He’d be able to explain!

“Well, maybe if I go to the bookshop…”

Michael sighed. She put an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders and tugged him closer. “And what would that accomplish?”

“Maybe he’s changed his mind? Now that the world’s not ending, anymore?”

“You know he hasn’t.”

Gabriel felt his eyes going watery, and pressed his face into the ruffles of Michael’s collar. He didn’t know what to do with himself any more. It would be different if Aziraphale had fallen. Then the situation would be out of Gabriel’s hands. But this? This felt like Gabriel’s own fault. How could this have happened? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

“What am I supposed to do?” he murmured, muffled slightly by the frills.

“Come back to Heaven.” 

“And do what? Hold meetings? Do paperwork?” he lifted his head and sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve.

“It never bothered you before now.” Michael let her wings unfold, and tucked Gabriel underneath.

“Michael! You can’t...the humans...they’ll see…”

“I won’t let them.” She grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket and began blotting at his face. “Don’t I always take care of you?”

“Yes…” She was the only one who ever did. The only one who ever seemed to remember that he was never meant to be a leader. He wasn’t made for it, and if anyone bothered to look beyond the large and ungainly body he’d been issued, they might see that!

“I should have been there with you in Heaven, when you dealt with Aziraphale. I should never have let you handle it on your own.”

Gabriel shrugged, more tears leaking out as he tried to play it off. “Should never...should never have tried to do it in the first place…”

“Come here.”

“I’m too big for your lap,” Gabriel pointed out, feeling a few more errant tears falling.

“As if that’s ever stopped you from trying,” she said, teasingly, the corner of her mouth turning up in the hint of a smile.

But Gabriel could hardly see the humor in the situation. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t _fit_ anywhere. Not only was he a bad leader, he’d always felt out of sorts in the body he’d been assigned. Truth be told, he longed to have the courage to change his corporation. He’d never so much as changed his hair. The most he’d been able to bring himself to do was to pick out clothes he liked. If he couldn’t get the comfort he needed from other angels, then at least he could wrap himself up in soft fabrics that complemented his eyes.

He shook his head. “We should go back. I should be stronger, shouldn’t I?”

“At least let me clean up your face, first,” Michael insisted, bringing out the handkerchief again.

Of course.

Of course he couldn’t let the other angels see that he wasn’t who they thought he was. That wasn’t the done thing.

But maybe he was tired of doing what was expected of him all the time.

~

Gabriel had been pacing outside the Quartermaster’s department for several minutes. Perhaps he should forget about his request and simply go back to his office. After all, he had lots of paperwork to...do...whatever with. 

No, he insisted to himself. He was going to ask. For once in his long life, he was going to ask for something he wanted.

He knocked on the door to the office.

“Enter,” boomed a voice that seemed perfectly at home shouting orders. Gabriel let himself inside.

“Archangel Gabriel,” the Quartermaster greeted him, coming around his desk to shake his hand. “Excellent to have you here. Don’t tell me, don’t tell me! Efforts to start the war are in progress, eh?”

Gabriel frowned. “Not that I’m aware of.”

At this, the Quartermaster looked taken aback. “But isn’t that your department?”

He decided to ignore this, and push forward with his original intentions. “I’m actually here on other business. I came to see you about being issued with another body.”

“Ah, I see, I see. Who’s the poor sod that’s gotten themselves discorporated this time, hmm?”

“Oh, I haven’t been discorporated,” Gabriel explained.

“No? Not discorporated?” The Quartermaster looked him up and down. “What’s wrong with the body you’ve been issued, then?”

Gabriel was sure he would actually discorporate from shame if he was made to detail everything about his body that he found wanting. “It--it’s not the right fit. I was hoping you could help?”

“Not the right fit?” he was staring at him now as if he’d grown an extra head. Would growing an extra head be grounds for getting a new body? Gabriel was desperate enough to try it. “You know you can make adjustments. Alterations, and such.”

Sure, Gabriel knew this. But it wasn’t enough to adjust his height, or put on some weight and become delightfully soft like Aziraphale had, or put on more muscle like Sandalphon. He needed more.

“Isn’t there a form I can fill out? For a new one?” Gabriel tried.

“Oh, well, of course. It’s usually in the case of discorporation, but I don’t see why we couldn’t make an exception for an Archangel,” he said conspiratorially.

Gabriel sighed in relief as he was handed the form and a pen. Under ‘reason for new body acquisition’ he wrote ‘personal.’ He wasn’t sure that would be enough, but the Quartermaster didn’t say anything about it.

In fact, he didn’t say anything at all until Gabriel pointed out the body he wanted in the catalog.

“This one? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“You realize it’s 5’3”. That’s considerably shorter than your current body. And smaller.”

Gabriel turned to him and crossed his arms. He knew he looked quite intimidating like this. And that was the point, wasn’t it? That he didn’t _want_ to look intimidating any longer. “I’m well aware of what I’m asking for, thank you.”

“Very well.” The Quartermaster shrugged and wrote the ID number for the body on the form and stamped it ‘approved.’ “Go down the hallway to your left and they’ll get right to it.”

~

Gabriel practically skipped into Michael’s office. He’d worried that he’d be tripping and falling in his new body, as unused to it as he was, but he felt more himself than he had in ages. Since before they’d been issued bodies and had only existed in their true angelic forms. He felt light enough to fly, even without his wings out.

“Michael!” He exclaimed, sprinting up to her and wrapping his arms around her neck. “What do you think?”

He was shorter than _her_ now. He hadn’t been shorter than her in so long. 

“What are you wearing?” she asked, returning the embrace.

“My new body!”

“No, I mean, what are you wearing? You can’t walk around Heaven in that.” Michael pointed out the white robe he was sporting.

“Oh, well. My old suit doesn’t fit me anymore.”

“Obviously not. But you couldn’t have miracled up something less old-fashioned?”

“It’s what they gave me.”

“Ah. Well, I’ll be sending them an email about updating the standard re-corporation wardrobe.”

Michael sat down at her desk, pulling a clinging Gabriel along with her, who took the opportunity to sit in her lap when she sat down. She quickly composed the email on her phone and hit ‘send'. She then opened her desk drawer, pulled out a mirrored compact and handed it to Gabriel.

“It does suit you,” Michael said.

Gabriel grinned, using the compact to peer at the new angles of his face. His own purple eyes were still staring back at him, but now his lips were fuller, his hair was long and a darker shade of brown, and his skin was smoother. His features were softer, like he remembered them being.

“Will you come down to Earth with me? So I can get a suit that fits?”

“Doesn’t Sandalphon usually accompany you?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t seen me yet.” Of all the Archangels, Gabriel was most hesitant over what Sandalphon’s reaction would be. 

“Go see him, then.”

Gabriel took his time climbing off her lap and returning her compact. It wasn’t that he needed Sandalphon’s approval--well, no, he very much did need his approval. What was he even thinking about?

He actually ran into Uriel first, because she was heading to Michael’s office.

“Gabriel,” she said, sounding astonished. “You’re...adorable?”

“I am?” Even though she was only a few inches taller, he still stood on tiptoes to hug her. Also, his feet were still bare, so she had the height advantage of shoes as well.

“It’s quite a change.”

“My first change in thousands of years,” he confirmed, holding onto her tightly. She felt warm and welcoming, when before she couldn’t even bring herself to hold his hand.

“You know, you look more like how I remember you, before we got our bodies. You were built for speed, weren’t you?”

Gabriel nodded against her, then finally pulled away. “That was before we restructured.”

“Before we started hiding our wings away.” She looked thoughtful before speaking again. “Your messenger wings.”

“I didn’t know you remembered all that.”

Uriel brushed a stray hair out of his face. “Of course. Is Michael in her office?”

Gabriel nodded, and watched for a moment as she took her leave. Sandalphon must be around somewhere. He padded down a corridor with his bare feet, his robe swishing against his bare legs. 

Sandalphon was in the middle of a conversation with another angel when Gabriel saw him, but as soon as Sandalphon caught a glimpse of him in return, he quickly said goodbye and strode up to him, looking concerned.

“Gabriel?”

“Sandalphon!” he burst out, unable to contain his excitement. He grinned, and spread his arms out.

“Are you okay? What’s happened to your body?”

“This _is_ my body.”

Gabriel’s hair had fallen into his eyes again, and he pushed it away, impatient.

“But what happened to your old body? Were you hurt?” Sandalphon looked him up and down. Even Sandalphon was taller now, and Gabriel couldn’t help noting how much broader, more muscular he was as well.

“...No.”

“Well, that’s all right, then.” He looked down at Gabriel’s feet. “You’ve not got shoes on, though.”

“No, they didn’t fit.” Gabriel looked at him hopefully, then all of a sudden gave him a friendly punch in the arm. He shouldn’t act any different just because of his new body, right? “So, what do you say? Down to Earth for a new suit for yours truly?”

“Of course.” Sandalphon reached out and took the hand that Gabriel had punched him with. He turned Gabriel’s petite hand around in his much larger one. “Are you sure you meant to be this, er. Small?”

Gabriel shifted in place, as Sandalphon rubbed a rough thumb against his delicate wrist. 

“I was never issued a sword, in the beginning,” Gabriel said, quietly. Uriel had a sword, and Michael. Even Aziraphale had that one that he could never keep track of, and which still wasn’t accounted for in the archives. But Gabriel had been gifted with something different. A gift from Her, that Gabriel had never questioned.

A trumpet.

Which he had never been able to play properly in his larger form. His hands were too big, too awkward. It was stored in the archives, now. He’d visit it from time to time. Michael’s sword was in her office, hung on the wall above her desk. He wasn’t sure where Uriel kept hers, but he hadn’t seen it in millenia. Pride of place in Uriel’s office was a scroll, sat upon a lectern, that Gabriel had never gotten up the courage to ask about.

A trumpet was perhaps not the best weapon for the end of the world, and perhaps he should be thanking Aziraphale right now, for saving him the trouble of bringing a musical instrument into battle. The point was, he’d never been built for strength, and fighting. He wasn’t sure how to say this to Sandalphon.

“Weren’t you?” Sandalphon squinted at him.

Gabriel shook his head. “Do you remember me, before we got bodies?”

“I was in a different department, then.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” He shoved his hair away from his face again. “Michael and Uriel can tell you, if you want. That I was made to be a messenger.”

Of course, he knew how to use a sword. He hadn’t been issued one that was explicitly his, but there was no shortage in the armory. He’d always felt out of place fighting, however. As out of place as he’d felt when She had stopped speaking to him directly. There had been no warning. One day, he’d been Her shining messenger, and the next, Metatron was looking down on him.

Sandalphon nodded slowly. “Why spend such a long time in the other body, then?”

Gabriel felt himself blushing, and wondered how he looked. “It was what I was issued with.”

And he couldn’t bear disappointing Her. He still didn’t know the reason why She’d turned her back on him, what he’d done to deserve it. He tried everything he could to get back into Her favor, but nothing was ever good enough. No matter how he served, how he tried to guess what would please Her, She’d never shown an inkling that She noticed him one way or another.

“Ah.” Sandalphon put an arm around his slim waist and began leading them both to the escalator.

-

Gabriel twisted this way and that, peering at himself in his new suit in the mirror. It was lavender again, but this time it fit him so differently. His breasts, for one thing, filled out the front of his dress shirt. He’d never worn a brassiere before, but he had deemed it necessary to achieve the desired look in his jacket. He had matching panties as well, which was one thing that hadn’t changed much, except for the size. His trousers hugged his rear in a way that Sandalphon assured him was flattering.

His shoes stayed basically the same as well, except in size. He rejected anything with a heel--he hadn’t done all of this to be taller!

His hair was still flowing down his back and shoulders, long and untamed. He knew that Michael would do it up for him if he asked, but he wasn’t sure that was what he wanted. 

“Are you sure I look okay?” he asked, turning to look at himself from a different angle.

Sandalphon grabbed him by the wrist, causing Gabriel to gasp in surprise. “Handsome as you always are. You’ve forgotten your tie, though.”

Gabriel held still, looking into Sandalphon’s serious eyes as he flipped up Gabriel’s collar and began doing up his tie for him. It was a teasing sort of fabric, flirting between gray and light purple, playing tricks. 

Sandalphon took his time tying it into a schoolboy knot, simple and to the point. He then flipped down Gabriel’s collar, smoothing it.

“Thanks.” Gabriel grinned at him. Trying not to overthink it, he wrapped his thin arms around Sandalphon’s neck and embraced him.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel was peering into the bookshop window. The sign on the door declared it was open, and he could see a few humans milling about inside. He took a deep breath and adjusted his tie for the millionth time since he’d arrived. What if this was all a big mistake? He hadn’t even told Michael he was coming here. He knew that she would not approve. He hadn’t even tried to broach the subject with her since the last time.

He heard the tinkling of the bell as the shop door opened and a customer stepped out into the London air, empty handed. There was no sign of Aziraphale from where Gabriel was standing. He twisted his long hair around his fingers, which was starting to be a nervous habit for him. He pressed his hand against the window glass. 

A strong feeling of love washed over him, nearly knocking him over.

Well, then. 

At least Aziraphale was doing well for himself, that much was clear. Gabriel had never thought of himself as a jealous being, but in that moment, he couldn’t help feeling that it was deeply unfair that, as lovely and powerful and strong as that feeling of love was, it wasn’t for him.  
In the beginning, Gabriel remembered how there was no shortage of love in Heaven. He’d been created in it, with it. Light and love given a form, given wings. That’s what he was. That’s what he had been. Was it possible that his physical form got in the way of that? But, no. That didn’t make sense. Aziraphale was fully at home in his corporation, and yet the love seeping from this place was stronger than Gabriel had felt in a long time. How had it come to be that Heaven felt less loving than a London bookshop?

Gabriel shook his head. It was no use stalling. He walked to the door, pulled it open, and let himself inside. The bell announced his arrival, but no one paid him any mind. Looking around, the shop was more or less the same since the last time he’d seen it. 

He walked along the shelves, trailing his fingers along the spines of the books. He’d never really taken the time to look, when he’d been here before. He’d always thought of the shop as unnecessary. He couldn’t understand why Aziraphale had cared for it so much. Maybe if he had realized, Aziraphale wouldn’t have pulled away from them.

He picked up a random book and opened it. Why hadn’t he tried harder to understand? The book’s pages suddenly started to get wet, and Gabriel quickly rubbed at his eyes, closing the book and shoving it back into place.

“Excuse me, Miss, but we’re about to close, so--” A familiar voice came from behind him, and he turned to stare up at Aziraphale. He hadn’t thought how much more intimidating he’d be, towering over him now. He’d always been nervous around Aziraphale. He never knew what to say.

“Ah, Gabriel?” Aziraphale said, when Gabriel didn’t respond.

“Hi, Aziraphale.” Gabriel’s hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it away, wiping at his damp eyes at the same time.

“You’ve, er. You’ve changed.”

“Yeah. New body.” He tried out a smile, wanting to put Aziraphale at ease. “You haven’t changed.”

“No, I haven’t,” Aziraphale agreed, and it sounded like a challenge.

“I thought, maybe--” Gabriel pressed on, before being interrupted by another voice that he recognized.

“Angel, I thought you were closing early today, we’re going to be late for--” Crowley paused to look at the two of them.

“Yes, well. Gabriel has stopped by for a visit, as you can see.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened as Crowley approached, placing himself in between the two angels. “That’s funny, because the last time you saw Aziraphale, I’m pretty sure you were trying to kill him.”

“I only wanted to talk today,” Gabriel said, sounding pitiful even to himself. How was he meant to explain himself now? Not that he had a great explanation in the first place.

“Why? Had a sudden change of heart?” Crowley asked.

“...Yes.”

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged glances. 

“Look, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said, coming forward and somehow directing him to the shop door without placing a hand on him. “It’s very...er...interesting that you’ve decided to stop by. But we really are in a bit of a hurry, must dash. So perhaps another time?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Ah...very well. Tomorrow, then. Shall we say one o’clock?”

“Okay.” Gabriel grinned as he was gently persuaded out the door. “I’ll see you then.”

He turned around, facing the street. But, before Gabriel could walk away, Crowley caught up with him and dragged him into an alley.

“What exactly do you think you’re playing at?” Crowley demanded, shoving him up against the brick wall.

Gabriel scowled, not fighting back. “I could ask you the same thing! You’re the reason Aziraphale broke away from us!”

“Oh, bollocks. Aziraphale can make his own decisions, and he has. He chose Earth. So why don’t you run along home to Heaven and leave us alone for good.”

“You...you don’t scare me.”

“Oh?” Crowley gave him a dark look, towering over him, and shoved him roughly by his shoulders so that his head hit the wall behind him. “Not scared of me, messenger boy?”

Gabriel’s purple eyes were wide as he looked up at the demon. “I’m still the Archangel Fucking Gabriel.”

“I know.” Crowley grinned. “And I’m not fooled by your new, softer corporation.”

“I’m not _trying_ to fool anyone,” he insisted, confused. If anything, his previous body had been the facade. Why could no one understand? 

“Hey!” a woman shouted from the entrance of the alleyway. “Are you okay?”

They turned to look at her. Crowley slowly removed his hands from where he’d been holding Gabriel in place.

“Are you okay, Miss?” the woman continued.

“She means you,” Crowley hissed.

“Oh,” Gabriel said, suddenly feeling waves of protectiveness emanating from the human. He walked up to her. “You were _worried_ about me.”

He couldn’t believe it. Thousands of years of delivering messages, performing miracles, and the whole ‘be not afraid’ shtick, and a human woman was worried for his safety. He’d spent so long having people be afraid of him, or intimidated by him, and now he finally got to feel something other than fear or wariness directed at him.

“Thank you,” he said, breathlessly.

“Look, do you want me to walk you home? Or at least to a public place?”

Gabriel accepted her help, even if he didn’t need it. What a foreign feeling, to be the recipient of human agape. He let her walk him to a nearby cafe, and was sure to miracle a nice promotion for her at work.


	3. Chapter 3

Hell’s service elevator, ironically, was frequently out of service. The doors stuck all the time, the ceiling of it constantly dripped something acidic, and no matter which button you pressed, you were always doomed to stop at each floor for an excruciatingly long time before reaching your destination.

It was Gabriel’s preferred method of sneaking downstairs.

Or at least, it had been, until now. Apparently, Beelzebub was expecting him, and had sent her Dukes to collect him.

Gabriel stared at the two of them in dismay as the doors rattled open.

“The Prince says to stop messing around with the service elevator and to take the escalator down like everyone else,” Ligur said, holding out his hand to help Gabriel step over a disconcerting-looking puddle of something.

“It was supposed to be a _surprise_ ,” Gabriel insisted.

“Well, Lord Beelzebub don’t like surprises,” Hastur said. “Speaking of, why d’you look like that, now?”

“The other one wasn’t working out.”

“Good thinking,” Ligur said. “That last one was rubbish.”

“Oh, I dunno.” Hastur’s face colored slightly. “I thought it were a bit of all right.”

They began walking down a murky corridor together, Gabriel following along behind the other two.

“Didn’t look anything like ‘im though,” Ligur countered.

“Wait, what?” Gabriel grabbed Ligur by the sleeve of his coat. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just what I said.” Ligur shrugged. “I remember you flitting about Heaven, way back when.”

“You do?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, angel boy. I was a principality assigned near your department.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” Gabriel smiled to himself. It was nice knowing that someone else realized that he looked more like himself now.

The lights in the corridor flickered and then went out altogether.

“This is why you should stop using that bloody elevator,” Hastur said as he summoned a fistful of hellfire to light their way. “It’s bloody inconvenient.”

~

“Gabriel,” Lord Beelzebub greeted him as they finally entered the main office. “What do you want?”

Task completed, Hastur and Ligur wandered off together, leaving Gabriel alone with the Prince.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“The only surpriszzing thing is that you still don’t think I know when you’re coming to see me.” Beelzebub turned on her heel and strode toward her throne room, leaving Gabriel to scamper after her.

The heavy doors of the throne room slammed shut behind them, rife with demonic energy, once they were both inside. The throne room hadn’t changed in thousands of years. Same elevated throne, same walls that oozed, same lack of light from above. Gabriel wasn’t, in fact, sure where the dim lighting that allowed them to see actually came from, as he could never find the source.

Beelzebub sat down and leaned forward, flies buzzing all around. She looked down at Gabriel, standing there.

“Well, surprise!” Gabriel said finally, twirling around. “What do you think?”

“New suit?”

“New _body_ ,” Gabriel said, with more than a hint of whining in his tone.

Beelzebub sat back in her throne and rolled her eyes. “It’zz all the same to me.”

“You don’t like it?” Gabriel approached, flipping his hair away from his face. “Is it the hair? Because I haven’t decided what to do with it yet, so it’s a work in progress.”

“Why does it matter if I like it? It’s your body.”

“So, you don’t like it, then.” Gabriel put his hand over Beelzebub’s, where it was resting on the arm of the throne. She quickly removed it from his touch.

“It didn’t matter before, and it doesn’t matter now. Nothing’s changed.”

Gabriel slunk down onto his knees and looked at the Prince’s shoes. “I have.”

“You’ve no business kneeling for me,” Beelzebub said, her voice sounding a bit less confident than usual. “You’re not one of mine.”

“But, the War’s been called off. I always thought, that was why you never let me get too close before. But now we don’t have to fight each other.”

Beelzebub grabbed Gabriel’s tie and yanked him forward with it, so he had to meet her eyes. “It’s not been called off. Postponed. That’szz it.”

“And you’re still looking forward to it, is that it? You want to fight me?”

“Don’t be ridiculouszz, Gabriel. You’re no match for me and you never will be.” Beelzebub pulled harder, and Gabriel let himself think that was why his eyes were starting to water.

“You’re right,” Gabriel whispered. “I couldn’t hold my own against you, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to fight anyone.” He lifted a hand to Beelzebub’s fist, wrapped around his tie, and rested it there, not resisting, not pulling away in the slightest.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“It’s only the truth. I’m tired of pretending there’s nothing between us. I feel like I’ve been given a second chance, don’t you see?”

“Arrogant of you to think She’d do anything for you.”

“Please.” Real tears were starting to form at the corners of his eyes now. “I know She doesn’t care. But I have a harder time believing that you don’t.”

Beelzebub stood, suddenly, forcing Gabriel to rise up with her. All Gabriel could do was awkwardly twist around and follow after her as Beelzebub walked to the doors and tugged him along.

“Leave, Gabriel.”

“Tell me you don’t care, then.”

Beelzebub’s eyes, normally a stormy blue, flashed red with anger. “Don’t push me, Archangel.”

“Beelz--”

Gabriel’s words were swallowed up as the Prince of Hell pushed him against the doors and kissed him, fully on the mouth. It was a brief kiss, forceful and to the point. 

Beelzebub pulled away and straightened Gabriel’s tie. “Go back upstairs, Gabriel. We’ll discuss this another time.”

“Okay. Yes! Thank you!” Gabriel blushed as he was nearly certain that you shouldn’t thank someone after they kiss you. Probably. He didn’t know what the protocol was, actually.

Before he could do anything else to embarrass himself, Beelzebub was pushing him through the doors and shutting them behind him.


End file.
